He loves me....

I love picking flowers. I'm not sure what about it makes me happy. Maybe the simplicity of nature's beauty, yet the complexity it takes to make beauty simple.  It could be the thrill of something actually being produced from my hard labor or the time it takes to grow.  I didn't really get to plant anything this year since I don't live in my own place, but I did get to repot a few flowers for the back patio thanks to a dear friend's giftcard to Home Depot. (which btw I am completely in love with now, we so need one closer) They're still thriving and looking beautiful so I've gotten a little bit of satisfaction out of planting. 

The people I'm staying with have a few flower beds and I've cut a few bouqets since spring sprung.  When I first had potted plants and garden flowers I was loathe to cut them and bring them inside.  I didn't want to ruin the outside just so the inside could look good. But then I realized I'd get to enjoy the flowers more if I brought a few inside.  Unless I wanted to stand outside for an hour or so a day in the sweltering heat the only other option to enjoy my labor was to cut and bring some in.  My old house has gorgeous orange day lilies, garden phlox, daffodils, columbine, spider wort, irises and rose bushes.  Every year I tried to plant some annuals in containers: Vincas, petunias, marigolds and sunflowers. Not all having success.  I miss my flowerbeds.